


They've Got the Kingdom Locked Up

by sempereadem



Category: Elizabeth (Movies), The Tudors (TV)
Genre: 16th Century CE, Angst, Drama, England (Country), Gen, Historical, Imprisonment
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempereadem/pseuds/sempereadem
Summary: When the heavy door was closed and locked behind her in those damned royal apartments and Kat immediately started clucking about how they should all get out of these wet clothes, Elizabeth dearly wished she had been locked in a dungeon instead.





	They've Got the Kingdom Locked Up

**Author's Note:**

> So every single novel of Elizabeth’s life I’ve ever read gets her entrance into the Tower inaccurately, basing it off of John Foxe’s heavily romanticized version of it where Elizabeth plonks down on the steps of Traitor’s Gate and refuses to go in. Afterwards, many novels stick her in the Bell Tower as her prison. In reality, Elizabeth entered via a land entrance after docking at Tower Wharf and was kept in the Royal Apartments. Even the Tower of London’s website clears up the legend but writers and moviemakers (even historians!) still keep with the original story. I got tired of it so I wrote my own going off what we know actually happened when Elizabeth entered the tower. I did keep some of the famed words because I’m willing to believe it wasn’t all made up.

The river stank. That was what Elizabeth decided to focus on as the barge inched its way down the steel-grey water, otherwise she feared she would lose her dignified facade entirely. In a way she almost wished they would row the damn thing faster so that she would be spared this unbearable wait. Outwardly, Sussex and Winchester saw a young woman stiff with anger and affront but they could never know that her stiffness came from sheer terror and her teeth were clenched so tightly Elizabeth idly wondered if they would soon break. She had won herself a few precious hours with that letter to Mary but for all the good it ultimately did her, she might as well have tossed it in the Thames. Mary hadn’t even bothered to reply.

Much of the north bank of the river was still and silent, where the great nobles in their city houses had long since gone to bed and the merchants and sellers had closed up shop for the night. The same could not be said for south of the river where pinpricks of light gave away the brothels and taverns still throwing open their doors for willing customers. Elizabeth could just hear shouts of laughter and scratchy country music over the sound of rain and the lapping river. She became irrationally angry - it was like they were mocking her with their merriment. Elizabeth held onto that anger like a lifeline; it was so much more preferable to that numb terror she felt before.

They had passed under London Bridge not too long ago and Elizabeth felt every organ in her constrict under the weight of the truth she could no longer deny: the Tower was the next stop. She could already see it, a dark patch against the deep blue night sky. A place that had sucked into its darkness so many human lives and if she wasn’t careful, she would be added to that list. 

Only a moment ago she had silently urged the barge to go faster, now she would give all the gold she owned for it to stop, to turn around and go back. Without thinking, Elizabeth tightened her hold on the wooden railing, wildly hoping that maybe, just maybe, if she clung onto the barge tightly enough they wouldn’t be able to prie her off …

The barge docked off Tower Wharf and the Earl of Sussex entered the cabin where Elizabeth stood.

“We’ve arrived, madam,” he declared unhelpfully, as though she didn’t know damn well that the barge had stopped and where her final destination was. Elizabeth turned to look at her and she saw him glance slightly to the side, unwilling - or unable - to look her in the eyes.

“So we have,” Elizabeth replied cooly, gathering her skirts in her hands as she brushed passed the silent Earl and into the icy rain, Kat Ashley and the few ladies that had been allowed to accompany her trailing after her mutely. It was raining so hard that the outline of the Tower seemed to quiver and Elizabeth was drenched in moments. _What a fine addition I will make to this place,_ she thought bitterly, _as if they don’t have enough drowned rats already …_

Sussex and Winchester flanked her as she walked towards the the drawbridge, already lined with soldiers and guards, waiting for her. Out of the corner of her eye she could just make out the silhouette of St Paul’s Cathedral, the only building which soared higher than the Tower. Elizabeth felt an odd sense of regret - she had never been overly pious and perhaps she would be answering for that very shortly.

Elizabeth stood at one end of the drawbridge and at the other was the Lord Lieutenant of the Tower. Below them prowled the chained up beasts of the menagerie, softly growling their protest at the rain. How sympathetic to those beasts Elizabeth suddenly felt.

As she began to walk across the drawbridge she kept her eyes forward, fixed on the Lord Lieutenant, hoping her intense gaze made him squirm. What she hadn’t expected, however, was for two of the soldiers to her right to collapse to their knees as emotion overwhelmed them.

“God keep you, your Grace,” one of them called out over the thundering rain. His companion stayed silent but kept his head bowed in reverence.

Elizabeth felt a flicker of … _something_ inside her. She had been enveloped, for the past few days, in such a cloak of despair that hope had little chance of sneaking its way through. But the sight of these two men perhaps risking their livelihood to show her respect bolstered the flickering flame inside her that was so close to being snuffed out. Years later it would be a fine story to tell their children, that they had knelt to Elizabeth of England when no one else would, but today it was a small gesture with large consequences.

She _would_ live through this. God knows she had been through worse. Sensing the anxious looks of her escorts, Elizabeth gave the two men a grateful smile (she dared not risk touching their shoulders to raise them - like a _queen_ would) and hurried along the drawbridge, a notable strength to her gait that it had lacked before. 

The Lord Lieutenant looked well into his middle ages with a stern look about him but his eyes swam with pity. He did his duty but he did not relish it. Elizabeth hoped she could use some of that hidden kindness to her advantage. The Lieutenant had just opened his mouth to talk but he was cut off by an almighty roar from one of the lions down below. Her ladies screamed and Elizabeth jumped so hard that she collided into one of the guards who gently pushed her back into place. Elizabeth caught a glimpse of the lion - skeletal thin with a ragged mane and one milky eye. If Elizabeth didn’t know better she would have thought the poor creature had been tortured alongside traitors in the dungeons. 

“Don’t worry madam, he cannot hurt you.” The Lord Lieutenant told said. Elizabeth shot him a glare. 

_He might not, but others here can._

Shivering in her drenched gown Elizabeth formed the words in her head carefully. She knew whatever she said would be remembered in the minds of those who heard her. Perhaps in the years to come they would be slightly warped with memory but let no man dare think that Elizabeth Tudor came to the Tower like a meek lamb to the slaughter. She turned to the Earl of Sussex and the Marquess of Winchester, her ladies and the soldiers, and willed her voice to not shake like her hands were doing.

“I never thought to come here as prisoner and I pray you all, good friends and fellows, bear me witness, that I come in no traitor but as true a woman to the queen’s majesty as any is now living - and thereon will I take my death.”

Even cold, steely Winchester had to bow his head at that. One of her ladies began sobbing in earnest and had to be held and comforted by Kat. Elizabeth turned back to the Lord Lieutenant and saw that whatever he was going to say before, he thought better of it. Instead, he said lowly, “If your Grace would follow me, please,” turned and walked briskly into the confines of the fortress. Elizabeth didn’t allow herself one last look of the city around her - she didn’t think she could bear to step in if she did. 

As she walked after him, she could hear Sussex muttering something to Winchester behind her. His voice reminded her of his kindness in allowing her to write that letter to Mary, which in turn reminded her of Mary’s refusal to grant her an audience. Elizabeth felt another flicker of anger and, like a dying fire trying to reignite itself, she fuelled that anger for it kept her sane. It seemed their trajectory was leading towards the Bell Tower, and her fury grew.

“Am I to be kept in a lowly tower cell like any wretched traitor?” Elizabeth shouted at the Lord Lieutenant. He looked back at her with surprise and a whisper of trepidation.

“Of course not, madam. You’ll be housed in the royal apartments with four rooms for the comfort of you and your ladies.”

Elizabeth stopped dead in her tracks, causing everyone else to stop as well. The angry fire died out instantly to be replaced with cold dread and her hands began shaking anew. The Lord Lieutenant could not have inspired more terror in her if he had told her she would be housed like a traitor in a tower cell or dungeon. The royal apartments - where every king and queen of England stayed before their coronation. Her mother had been one of those queens. And she had stayed in those same rooms before she was executed.

Elizabeth’s courage, which she had only just recently regained, failed her momentarily.

“Good sir, I beseech you, _please_ ,” Elizabeth said, her voice trembling like a young girl’s, “let me stay anywhere, _anywhere_ but those rooms.”

Now he was starting to look exasperated, “Madam, they are the finest rooms in the Tower, surely you could have no objection to them?”

_Was he that stupid or just ignorant?_ Elizabeth thought furiously, trying to think of something that could get her moved but her rational mind reminded her that these were the Queen’s orders. No matter what these men personally felt for her, they would not disobey a direct order from the Queen. It was hopeless.

Her fears were confirmed when he added, “Her Majesty has ordered that you be kept in the royal apartments, where your basic comforts will be looked after.”

Oh what a clever bitch her sister was. If anyone accused her of cruelty she could prattle on about how she afforded Elizabeth the best lodgings possible as a prisoner, conveniently ignoring how its history would haunt every moment Elizabeth stayed there.

She knew it was useless to argue further so she kept silent as the Lord Lieutenant continued onward and she followed.

And when the heavy door was closed and locked behind her in those damned royal apartments and Kat immediately started clucking about how they should all get out of these wet clothes, Elizabeth dearly wished she had been locked in a dungeon instead.


End file.
